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The Gypsy's Curse
Greetings, Kiddies, you didn't know your Pal CREEPS, was a fan of the rock band Queen. My favorite songs of theirs are, JUST ONE FEAR OF LOVE, WE WILL SHOCK YOU and BO-SCREAM-IAN RHAPSODY ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! BILE I'm SLAYING thier record, here is a tale of terror that'll PUT YOU ALL IN THE SPIRIT... Ten tents were in a field out, in northwest-California back in the Autumn of 1900. A light rain fell upon them, as a lady swept into one, with an umbrella. An elderly gypsy studied cards by his ball of crystal within the tent. "Hello miss, how do you do?" he asked her. "Good day sir. I am well thank you. How do you do?" the woman responded answering and asked him. "Very vell thank you. Would you like your future foretold?" the old gypsy invited. "Yes please sir" she said. The gypsy saw the crystal ball light up with lightning. "Oh no! No no no!" he uttered at the magical crystal. There was screaming outside and the lady and gypsy ran to the screams. A man had a sack with him along with a knife. "Matthew is stealing our income help!" two women each in the doorway of a tent screamed. The gypsy grabbed the man, and wrestled him to the ground. But the thief plunged his knife into the old gypsy's back, killing him. He then got away. Matthew rode a horse to a bar in a village. A few minutes later, he drank a bottle of Jim Beam Whiskey at the counter. As Matthew cringed feeling a shadowy-hand on his shoulder, he turned around. It was the gypsy's apparition, with his long hair, resembling a shadow. His eyes and inside of his mouth shined-white, and the phantom cackled in a raspy-tone. "Matthew, I curse you for stealing money and you kill me too!" the spirit of the gypsy moaned to him in his raspy-tone of voice. The ghost brought its shadowy-ghostly-fingers from Matthew's shoulder to his neck, and a magical-glowing-light of white shined from his dead-fingers to Matthew's neck. Matthew cringed with fear, the white glow faded and the gypsy's ghost faded too. Matthew chugged his bottle of Jim Beam down. He began panting then. He left the bar and rode the horse to a bridge over a stream. There, he and the steed rested by the water. Matthew awoke and it was night. He screamed, discovering he was a skeleton in rags. The rotten zombie of Matthew was decaying with worms writhing within his eye-sockets and around his skull in the light of the moon. The shadowy-ghost of the gypsy was there just then. He laughed in his raspy-cackle, as the skeleton screamed in its black rags and the worms along with maggots coated his bones. The zombie grew silent and fell into the river. The gypsy's curse was ROT UP MATTHEW'S ALLEY eh? The curse got right down to THE BARE BONES with him too. The phantom gypsy didn't even give him A GHOST OF A CHANCE hee-hee-hee-hee-hee!